Lucky
by candycig
Summary: The story of the one that got away.


Lucky

The panel slipped from his grasp. It hung there, suspended, in the ether, slowly inching away from him. He quickly grabbed it from the abyss and resumed his work yet again. He affixed the recovered panel to the satellite with his welding torch, the silent flame blinking into existence, its glare glinting off his reflective helmet. It was simple work, made difficult by the location of repairs. It was 3:17 AM, according to his trusty military watch. Just a few more tiles needed attachment and then he would be done, free to get back to the beckoning shuttle and slip back into blissful slumber.

There! He was finally done. As he turned to head back to the ship, an unimaginably bright light hit him head on, practically burning his eyeballs. He instinctively squeezed his eyes shut as tight as he could, but the image was seared into his corneas. He counted to 1000, eyes still shut, then tentatively opened his eyes. Spots danced across his field of vision as he attempted to recover from the blinding flash. When he was able to see again, he slowly turned to face the source of the light. Easily distinguishable even in his blurry gaze was a foreboding sight that made his blood run cold: a monstrous mushroom cloud, towering over a blackened and charred landscape that was almost unrecognizable. Similar clouds could be spotted in various places on the planet. His heart skipped a beat. Averting his eyes from the terrifying spectacle, almost as if to deny that he had seen it, he frantically steered himself back to the shuttle. He tumbled through the air lock, pulled his helmet off, and collapsed into the ship, covered in perspiration. He desperately tried to fight his reflex to panic, tried to stay calm.

_Calm down_, he told himself. _No need to panic no need to panic no need to pani-_

He couldn't restrain himself. He dropped to his knees on the shuttle floor, sobbing hysterically, tears falling onto the ground one after another. Finally, with a shuddering gasp, he pulled himself together. _Get a grip on yourself already. Weeping like a baby won't change a damn thing._

He took a deep breath, steadying himself. He shakily got to his feet and wiped his eyes. Stripping off the rest of his suit, he dropped his gear onto the floor and staggered out of the room. Somehow he managed to find his way back to his sleeping quarters. He sat down hard on the floor and relayed the images that were now permanently imprinted into his mind.

_The world, consumed by atomic fire. A barren wasteland, scorched and cracked, damaged beyond repair. Radioactive fallout falling down to earth, poisoning all it fell on._

This and more played through his head like a gruesome slideshow, making him sick to his stomach. He shuddered involuntarily, trying to forget all he had witnessed, to no avail. Mustering what little vitality he had in him at the moment, he managed to stand up.

He stumbled down the shuttle walkway to the supplies storage room. Once there, he made a quick mental inventory of his remaining supplies. He had just enough food and water to last him a week, maybe two. It now occurred to him that he only had three definite options.

He could try and steer his shuttle back to Earth, in the unlikely event that there was still untainted food and water on the planet, let alone other people.

He could wait out the rest of his time on the shuttle, with his food supply rapidly dwindling, eventually starving to death on the ship, a forgotten corpse drifting through the endless void of space.

Or he could don his suit for a final time and go out on one last space walk.

He weighed his options for a fraction of a second, then made a choice. He stepped out of the storage room and locked the door behind him. He again took a deep breath, bowed his head, and hurried through the shuttle to the cockpit. He sat down in the pilot's seat, set a course for re-entry, and got up again. He flipped the autopilot switch on the shuttle's dashboard, then exited the room. He walked down the short hallway of the shuttle again, each step seeming to echo a thousand fold. He reached the airlock where his space suit still lay. He zipped it up and placed his helmet on his head, snapping it into place. He pushed a button on the wall and the airlock opened with a mechanical _whoosh._ The vacuum of space started to pull him out of the shuttle. He swallowed once, closed his eyes, and let go.


End file.
